


Crazy (Aerosmith)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Other, Shower Sex, Unsafe Sex, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Sequel to Fall to Pieces, continuation of FeverCas, Dean, and John have been captured by a member of the covenCas surprises the shit out of Dean and John





	Crazy (Aerosmith)

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently, claiming that Cas and Dean are biologically both men was offensive to some people.
> 
> I'm not going to stop writing what I want, but I will try to be a little more sensitive to the more delicate readers out there.

Crazy (Aerosmith)

            “ _Dean,_ ” Cas’ voice reaches him as though from very far away.  Groaning, and not in the good way, Dean tried to lift his head, but gave up when a fresh wave of roiling nausea swept through him.  Opening his eyes was only partially successful.  The left was crusted shut and when he tried to lift a hand to swipe it clear, he realized both hands were tied behind him.

 

            “Thank God, son.  I was-we were worried he’d done some real damage,” John’s voice was oddly soothing to Dean in this particular situation.

 

            “ _No damage? Look at him! He can’t even lift his head! He probably has a concussion_!” Cas hissed from somewhere to Dean’s right.

 

            “Meh, wouldn’t be the first,” John said from Dean’s left.

 

            “ _Jesus, who are you people?_ ”

 

            “Wha’ ‘hapin’?” Dean slurred weakly into his chest.

 

            “ _A man blew the door down! He…he did some-_ “ Cas started.

 

            “We missed a coven member.  He tracked us back to Palo Alto.  He took us back to the barn,” John explained impatiently.

 

            “We mished?” There was something wrong with Dean’s jaw, like one side wouldn’t move when the other did, “How? Fuck, my mouf.”

 

            “Would you just quit with the stupid questions, son, and get out of your ropes already?” John sighed.

 

            Dean grunted angrily, “Fuck off, Dad,” he said clearly.  John was right, though.  The witch was no bondage expert and Dean slipped out of the ropes easily, even despite the throbbing ache in his shoulder that probably meant a torn tendon, at least.  Hands finally free, Dean lifted them to his face, pushing it up with one hand while feeling along the bolt of his jaw with the other.  Yup, it was dislocated.  Dean shoved hard and felt it slot back into place with a pop.  Dean rubbed at the joint and worked his jaw around a little.  It hurt, and it was a little loose, but at least he could speak better, “Cas? You okay, babe?” he asked, carefully turning his head to the right.  A weight he hadn’t even known was there lifted when he saw her strapped to a chair next to him, not a scratch marring her smooth skin.

 

            Cas smiled, but then worry overtook her face, “I’m fine, I didn’t fight.  Dean, I told you not to fight,” Cas tutted, “Your father is…he’s hurt, too.” Cas talked like she wasn’t tied to a chair in a rickety old barn in the middle of nowhere, captive of a dangerous warlock.  “I don’t understand what’s happening, but it’s clear you haven’t been honest with me,” she glared over at Dean from under her brow, “This doesn’t seem like a situation an _FBI agent_ would find himself in.”

 

            John had slipped out of his bonds, as well, and was searching the immediate area for a weapon, “Hmf, FBI, huh? Real original, son,” he laughed.

 

            Dean threw his father his own version of Sam’s patented bitch face then turned back to Cas.  Standing was difficult, but he managed it, “Here, baby, let me get you out of those ropes,” he offered, stepping toward her.

 

            “I can do it myself,” she muttered, bowing her head as she worked to free her arms.  Sighing in relief and rubbing her wrists, she glared up at Dean, who stood over her in shock, “I think you’ve helped quite enough already, don’t you?” With that, she stood, brushing her hands over her blouse and skirt and Dean realized for the first time they were dressed. Cas noticed his confusion, “Yes, he let me dress us before tying us up.  He threw us in a dirty van, Dean!  Look at my skirt! I don’t even want to know what this brown stain is,” Cas lamented, presenting the offending smear of brown for Dean’s inspection.

 

            Dean sighed, his hands itching to wrap her in his arms, but she didn’t seem receptive to touch at the moment, “I’m sorry, baby.  I’m sorry about this whole mess.  I never wanted you to be involved in any of this,” he hung his head and fought the well-deserved flush of sickness that accompanied the movement.

 

            “Oh, Dean,” Cas said softly, stepping into his space, “Baby, just tell me what’s going-“

 

            “Shhh! He’s coming!” John hissed from across the barn, where he was peering out of a space in the wall between slats, “Here,” he rushed over, handing Dean a rusty pair of shears.  Cas held out one perfectly manicured hand and both men looked at her in surprise.

 

            “Well? Don’t I get a weapon?” Cas asked them.

 

            John smiled at Dean, “I like this one.  She’s got spirit.”

 

            Dean shook his head, “Babe, you should, uh,” he looked around quickly, “Hide behind that thing over there,” he pointed at a broken-down piece of farm equipment he didn’t know the name of, “Dad and I will handle this.”

 

            Cas huffed and rolled her eyes, but made her way gingerly over to hide where Dean had indicated.  Not a moment later, the barn’s crusty door squealed in protest as the warlock eased it open.  The man stepped into the barn, slightly stooped but only because he was so tall, taller than John, taller than Sam, even.  Dean gaped up at him for all of a second before adopting the false sense of bravado he used whenever he was dealing with power-mad monsters.

 

            “Well, look who decided to join the party? Long, tall, and fugly,” the man really was hideous, his skin hanging off his bones in moldy-looking dewlaps, his shrewd eyes beady and black under shaggy brows, his wet lips curling like two earthworms writhing on his face, “Ya know, I’m not really into being tied up, but ya could’ve at least bought me a drink first, then maybe.”  John shook his head beside him, hissing an exasperated ‘Dean’ under his breath.

 

            “Of course, I-“ Dean started.  He and John were flung in the air, thumping unceremoniously against the closest wall, sending a shower of dust and debris down as they slid to the floor.  Through his own pain, Dean barely caught Cas’ gasp of surprise behind the farm equipment to his right.  He rolled over, groaning at the twinges of pain radiating throughout his body.  “Dad?” he croaked.

 

            John’s hand shot up from under the pile of old hay and wooden boards he’d landed in, his thumb up proudly.  Dean heaved himself to his feet before helping John to his as the warlock advanced on them, one hand held out.  In the other, he clasped what looked to be a crystal ball.  Dean snorted, “Seriously? So cliched, man.”  John was standing on his own, so Dean took another step toward the warlock, “You look really familiar. Let me think, no, don’t tell me…hmmm…Oh! I know! You look _just_ like that pile of cow shit I saw outside!”

 

            “ _Don’t move_ ,” Cas’ voice was low, but it carried easily.  The warlock froze, no doubt stopped by the gun pressed to the back of his head. “In case you were wondering, this isn’t a gun.” Okay, so not a gun. “It’s a bolt shooter.  This is how they kill large animals, humanely, I might add.  Not that you deserve it, but I will have no issue putting you down, you assbutt.”

 

            Dean grinned expansively, “Drop the glass bowling ball, Gilda, or my girlfriend here is gonna put a six-inch steel rod through your melon.”

 

            “You killed my entire family,” the warlock growled, hand still clutching the crystal ball.

 

            “Yeah, well, your family was a bunch of evil pieces of shit, like you,” John ground out, stepping a foot in front of Dean.

 

            The warlock whirled on Cas, who shot the bolt, but it was too late, the warlock was grabbing her hands and prying the shooter away. Cas grunted and kicked out with one leg while swinging her weight back on the other.  The kick knocked the warlock off his feet, his back thudding into the barn’s dirty floor.  Cas dropped onto the guy’s chest, knee first, like a ton of bricks.  The warlock’s breath whooshed out of him as Cas fumbled in his robes, coming up with the crystal ball held in her hand.  All of this took a mere three seconds, John and Dean gawping like tourists as Cas subdued the much taller man easily.  She wasn’t even breathing heavy as she beckoned Dean over to take the crystal ball so she could flip the warlock, pinning his hands behind his back and wrenching them up.

 

            The warlock screamed in pain and anger, “Get off me, you bitch! I’ll peel your skin from your bones! I’ll pluck your eyes from your skull and feed them to-“

 

            Cas pushed the man’s arms up further, twisting his wrists in opposite directions, “You should show me some _respect_ ,” she hissed lowly.

 

            “So hot, baby,” Dean whispered as he watched Cas work the warlock over.  Her eyes met his and he grinned lasciviously.  Cas’ mouth quirked up just the smallest bit on one side, like she was trying very hard not to show any interest, but Dean knew that look.  Just then, John came over with a length of rope and the bolt shooter, offering both to Cas.

 

            “It’s your choice, Cas.  We can tie him up and leave him here, but he’ll just come after us again,” John explained.

 

            “Or?” Cas asked, her eyes suddenly wide and fearful, the first indication she’d given that she didn’t know what to do.

 

            “We kill him,” Dean said grimly, unable to wipe the distasteful look off his face.

 

            “We can’t-“ Cas sputtered, taken aback by Dean’s flat affect when speaking about murdering another person.

 

            “He’s a monster,” John said evenly, “He and his coven killed four people two weeks ago, a family.  The kids were three and seven, a little boy and a girl.”

 

            Cas grabbed the bolt shooter from his hand, planted it at the back of the warlock’s head and pulled the trigger.  She didn’t hesitate or even seem affected as she stood up, throwing the bolt shooter aside and straightening her skirt.  She looked up to find John and Dean both staring at her like she’d grown a second head.

 

            “What?” she asked innocently.

 

            “Um, no-nothing,” Dean stammered. He turned to John, “You got this?”  John nodded.  “I’m gonna take Cas home now.” He took Cas’ arm and pulled her to him, running his hands over her ribs as she nuzzled into his chest. 

 

            They walked toward the open barn door, but John’s hand on his arm stopped him.  He turned back to his father, weariness plain on his face. “Dean, I’m…I’m so goddamn sorry,” John sighed, hanging his head, “I’m sorry I gave you so much shit, I just…I was scared for you, dragging a civilian into this life, it puts you and…her…in danger.  I should have trusted you, both of you,” he smiled weakly at Cas, who returned his smile shyly.

 

            “It’s alright, Dad,” Dean reassured him, clasping his father’s shoulder and patting it, “I mean, it’s not _alright_ , but…we’ll talk, okay? Later, though.  I have to explain things to Cas,” he smiled down at the woman next to him, who somehow managed to still look ethereally beautiful despite the trials of the last couple of hours.

 

            Outside the barn, the coven members’ different cars were parked where Dean and John had left them two days ago.  Dean led Cas over to a silver Ford sedan, something he could hotwire easily, and opened the passenger door for her, but she walked around him to the driver’s door.  She opened it without a word, bent over the seat and pried the panel under the steering column loose.  She had the sedan turning over in a matter of seconds, sliding herself behind the wheel with a flip of her skirt.  Buckling her seatbelt, she glanced at Dean through the still-open passenger door, “You coming?”

 

            Dean scrambled into the passenger seat, “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. 

 

            “Seatbelt,” was all she said before steering the sedan over the rough barnyard and onto the dirt driveway.

 

            As she turned onto the country road that would take them to a highway, Cas finally took pity on Dean, who’d spent the last few minutes chewing on his lip and failing to disguise nervous glances at her from the corner of his eye.  “So, start talking.”

 

            Now Dean could see why she’d relegated him to the role of passenger.  “Well, um, I guess I should start with the basics.  Um, monsters are real?”  Cas took a second to look over at him with an expansive eye roll.  “Yeah, so, um, guess you already know that.  But it’s not just human monsters that’re real, like that asshole at the barn, but, like, _real_ monsters.  Vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, vengeful spirits, the works.”  Cas stiffened up at that.  “Yeah, I know, sounds crazy.  I don’t really know how to prove that part to you, without putting you in more danger and I won’t allow-“

 

            “That isn’t your decision,” Cas said flatly.

 

            “Yeah, I guess I deserved that, um…” Dean trailed off, looking out his window at the dark shapes of trees flashing past.  This whole thing had happened so quick, control had slipped through his hands like sand.  Meeting Cas had thrown his scale of judgement for a loop.  He was so focused on being in her life and snatching a little piece of happiness for himself, he hadn’t seriously considered what would become of her if she were exposed to his life.  John had been right, he had no right to pull her into this mess.  “Look, I can show you how to protect yourself, what to look for and how to avoid dangerous things, but then I’ll,” Dean swallowed over the lump in his throat, “I’ll leave and that, um, that should be enough to keep you safe.” He dared to glance back at Cas, “I’m sorry for everything,” he whispered, “You’ll be better off without me around.”

 

            “Also not your decision,” she countered, her voice still devoid of emotion.  They continued to drive in silence until they reached the motel.  Dean came out of the shattered remnants of the room 11 with his duffle to see Cas wiping the inside of the Ford down with the edge of her skirt, erasing their fingerprints.  Who could blame him if his heart stumbled behind his ribs at the thought of Cas working to cover his ass like that?  Once inside the Impala, Dean had a few questions of his own.

 

            “Am I allowed to ask you a few things?” he asked tentatively.  Cas simply nodded and continued to stare out the windshield.  “First, how did you get in my room?”

 

            “Picked the lock,” Cas answered, eyes locking with Dean’s for a split second.

 

            “Um, okay, I guess that brings me to my next question.  How do you know how to do all this? Picking a lock, what you did to that warlock, hotwiring a car?  How the hell does a lounge singer from freakin’ Palo Alto, California know how to do _any_ of that?”

 

            Cas sighed heavily and looked out the passenger side window for a long moment.  She finally turned back to Dean, a sad smile on her face, “Do you know about the Mossad, Dean?”

 

            “Uh, wha-yeah, um, Israeli spec ops, right?” he asked, confusion clouding his features as he glanced between Cas and the road.  Cas nodded.  “You’re with the freakin’ Mossad?!  Wait, you’re Jewish?”

 

            Cas threw an epic bitch face that definitely _should not_ have had Dean’s dick filling so rapidly in his jeans.  Cas looked back out the windshield before continuing, “In another life.”

 

            Dean waited but Cas didn’t add anything else.  As he pulled into her trailer park and made his way slowly down the road to her house, he asked quietly, “So, all that kung fu shit?”

 

            “Krav Maga,” Cas answered, again with the bitch face.

 

            “Krav Maga,” Dean repeated reverently, “Could you teach me some of that?” he grinned lecherously over at Cas as he parked in her plot’s little piece of driveway.

 

            “I could show you how I can break your arm in three places with just my thumb,” she offered sweetly, as she slipped out of the Impala and walked sedately up to her front door.  Dean mumbled ‘fucking hell’ and tried to adjust his burgeoning erection before following her.

 

            As he shut the door behind him, Cas was putting the kettle on for tea.  “Tea, then shower, then bed,” she explained. 

 

            “Um, okay, I can come back tomorrow to show you everything I need to show you, I guess,“ Dean stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

            Cas walked up to him, pushed his jacket off his shoulders and hung it on the little hook beside the door, “Tea,” she whispered into his collar bone, “Shower,” she laid a soft kiss under his jaw, her hands making their way under the hem of his shirt, “Bed,” she claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss that belied her gently touches and tone.  Dean inhaled sharply through his nose and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her whole body up against him as he deepened the kiss.

 

            In her surprisingly big shower, the two soaped up, running their hands over each other worshipfully.  Dean had no idea if this thing between them would work, how they could possibly reconcile their disparate worlds, but in this moment, none of it mattered.  All that mattered was being here, giving Cas as much pleasure as she gave him, showing her how much he cared for her.  Dean turned her around gently to wet her wild hair, the strands darkening even further until he lathered them up with her frufru pomegranate shampoo, rinsing it out by massaging her scalp up against his chest.  She melted into him, pressing her plump ass against his hard dick in a soapy slide that had his thighs shaking with the effort not to thrust back.  He pressed mumbled endearments into her long neck as she hummed in appraisal, pulling his right hand around to grasp her hard cock.  Dean turned them away from the spray, pushing Cas up against the cold tile wall and gripped her hip with his left hand.  Cas pushed her ass back, letting her forehead drop to the wall as Dean got the hint and started sliding his cock between her wet cheeks while stroking her cock languidly.

 

            “Lube in the caddy,” Cas said, turning her head enough to catch his eye.

 

            Dean groaned and dropped his head between her shoulder blades, “God, you’re perfect, baby,” he groaned before reaching over for the half-full bottle of lube.  Slicking up the fingers on his left hand, he opened her up quickly but gently, deliberately avoiding her prostate but keeping up the slow rhythm of his right hand, until Cas was growling that he ‘stop fucking teasing and just do it already’.  Dean chuckled lightly and let go of her cock as he pulled his fingers out of her, making her whine in frustration.  He kissed along her broad shoulders and shushed her as he slicked up his dick with lube, lining up with her stretched hole.  As much as he loved to tease her into a writhing, whining mess, it had been a long, stressful day and his dick was screaming at him with the urgent need to be buried inside her tight heat.  Dean pushed in and worked himself inside her in one long stroke.  She winced slightly, definitely not prepped enough, and Dean whispered a ‘sorry’ into her neck.  She craned her head enough to give him a sloppy kiss, mouthing ‘so good’ against his lips as he pulled out and pushed back in.  Cas groaned and dropped her head back against his chest.  Dean picked up a slow, rolling rhythm with his hips and reached around to resume stroking her cock with his right hand in a matching rhythm.  Despite her impatience, Cas lost herself in the deliberate cadence Dean set until nothing existed except Dean’s cock stretching her, his hand stroking her, his mouth on her neck, his breathe erratic in her ear.

 

            Her orgasm blindsided her mere moments later, boiling up from her groin to explode in a shower of sparks that ran through her limbs, curling her toes in the swirling water of the tub, her fingernails clawing uselessly on the slippery tiles as she whimpered Dean’s name.  A few thrusts later, Dean followed her over, hips stuttering into her ass, trying to shove up as far as he could get inside her, the pulse of his come a welcome rush of warmth deep inside.  His strong arms held her there against the wall until they had both stopped shaking with the aftershocks, then he pulled out slowly and turned her around, his right hand going to her sensitive hole in what she thought was a tease but soon realized he was pushing his come back inside her as it tried to leak out.  Cas fitted their lips together and swallowed his exhausted moans as she let the spray rinse them off.  Shutting off the now cool water, they stepped out and dried each other off silently.  

 

            Cas led Dean to her bed, curling up in his embrace, naked under her warm covers.  Dean clasped her to him, his soft cock slotting perfectly against her ass, a soft sigh escaping his lips before he kissed the nape of her neck and let sleep claim him.  Cas stared off into the darkness for a few moments, thinking about all that would have to be done tomorrow, all the talking, decisions, probably arguments.  Dean’s even breathing puffing under her hair is what finally shut her brain off, lulling her to sleep, as well.

**Author's Note:**

> One more chapter to go, then I got some dark shit coming up for you guys.


End file.
